


Your Secret Kiss (My Escape)

by leigh_adams



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bounty Hunters, Community: interhouse_fest, F/M, Family Secrets, Harry Potter Next Generation, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Next-Gen, Post-Divorce, Purebloods, Secret Children, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 08:01:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2805386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leigh_adams/pseuds/leigh_adams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A simple job turns complicated when the alcoholic, middle-aged bounty hunter and the divorced, spoiled socialite collide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Secret Kiss (My Escape)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2014 round of [Interhouse Fest](http://interhouse_fest.livejournal.com). My love and thanks to Carrie for the beta and feedback, and to Keeks for giving me a [visual representation of Zach](http://40.media.tumblr.com/54dfa2209b71dcc73406b9e421dd9540/tumblr_nfjhv35GYD1u1qoneo1_500.png) that is beyond perfect. The prompt is my favorite exchange of dialogue from [The Musketeers](http://sweetrupturedlight.tumblr.com/post/80082725150/its-a-pity-neither-of-us-is-the-marrying-kind) \-- I hope you enjoy it! ♥

The seedy office above No. 24 Knockturn Alley had seen its fair share of clientele. Drug runners, pimps, smugglers, thieves. On the rare occasion, honest folk looking to retrieve something a thief had stolen. Women with cheating husbands, husbands with cheating wives. Hell, he'd even had a member of the mafia come across the threshold. 

But never before had Zacharias Smith's dingy little business seen a woman like Astoria Greengrass. 

She looked out of place amongst the threadbare faux-leather chairs. His desk was dinged and littered with case files, stacked under half-finished cups of coffee and one not-so-discreetly hidden bottle of whiskey. Hell, even the location of his establishment -- above The Shady Lady, home of the best middle-aged exotic dancers this side of the Thames -- spoke volumes. Everything about his office screamed cheap, while the woman perched in the seat across from his desk was anything but. 

In contrast, there was not a stitch out of place on Astoria Greengrass. Her robes were designer, her shoes and matching handbag made of Italian leather, and there wasn't a stitch of gray in her dark brown locks. She even _smelled_ like high class -- Zach liked to pretend it was Eau d'Argent. Only the tiny wrinkles at the corners of her eyes hinted at her age.

What the hell did a woman like her need a man like him?

He cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair, which squeaked in protest. "I was surprised to get your owl, Mrs. Malfoy," he said by way of greeting. "Why don't you start by telling me why you might need my services."

She arched one imperious brow at him and fished a card from her purse. She placed it atop of stack of papers and withdrew her hand. Zach didn't reach for it; he knew what it was. His own business card. "Mr. Smith, I was assured you were the best in your field. Your knack for research, for one, and your ability to produce favorable results were two reasons I was assured it would be in my best interests to contact you. Are those statements out of line?"

Zach's lips curled. "Not at all. You want the best, you came to the right place."

Astoria's brown eyes were cool as her lips thinned. "Then I'm certain you did your homework before I arrived, Mr. Smith. Therefore, you know quite well I have not been Mrs. Malfoy in over eleven years."

His smirk grew, and he nodded in acknowledgement. He liked a woman with a bit of fire in her blood. "Touché, sweetheart. So, what's your problem? Cheating lover? Unruly house elf? Your accountant skimming your Gringotts account?"

"My business is of a very personal nature, and I do not appreciate your attempts at being glib," she replied icily. Her grip on her handbag tightened, knuckles going white. "My... my contact promised me that you were the best. That despite your faults, you were the person to go to. Were they wrong?" she challenged. "For if so, I will walk out right this second."

Merlin, women. Wound tight as a fiddle, and this one _certainly_ didn't have a sense of humor. Zach held up his hands in appeasement. "Listen, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to set you off, Ms. Greengrass. Whatever your problem is, I'm the man for the job." He reached out for his card and flicked it in his fingers, showcasing the embossed lettering. 

"Yes, I read it several times. 'Zacharias Smith. Bounty Hunter.'" The brunette's gaze flickered to meet his. Her lips gave a faint twitch. "An interesting title, to be sure."

He shrugged. "You got a job, I'll do it. Don't much care what it is. My only stipulation is complete honesty. I ask you a question about this job, you answer it. Got it? You sign a contract, and I don't give a damn what the hell you do. But if it involves this case, it's _my_ business." Zach thought his little schpiel sounded impressive enough. He gave her an arch look for emphasis. "And don't question my methods. They get the job done. Is that clear?"

"Your _two_ stipulations are clear as crystal," she retorted. "As long as you agree to _my_ stipulations."

"Please, darling, enlighten me."

Her eyes narrowed, but she didn't comment. "I require complete and utter discretion," she began in a tone that Zach recognized all too well. It was a tone that said _fuck with me at your own peril._ "If I see a word of anything we discuss in the newspaper or gossip rags, I will see you in court so fast your head will spin. And trust me, you will _not_ like that outcome."

Zach was sure he wouldn't. She likely had a team of barristers at her beck and call, who'd wring him dry -- and he didn't have that many Galleons to begin with. "Understood, Ms. Greengrass. Everything you say to me stays between us. Even if you leave this room without signing a contract, I will not take what you say to me today to the papers. You have my word."

She looked as though she were unsure of that, and he supposed he couldn't blame her. Still, he was a man of honor -- slightly tarnished as it was. Finally, she nodded. "Fine. Where should I begin?"

"The beginning of the story always helps, sweetheart."

Her glare was piercing. "Thank you for that helpful tip, Mr. Smith." Astoria took a breath to calm herself, then another before she began to tell her story. "As I'm sure you're aware, Draco and I share a son, Scorpius. He is a year from reaching his majority."

Sixteen years old. Just as his research had told him. Zach indicated she should continue.

"Have you heard of the Brothers of Cassiopeia?"

"A bit," he admitted. "Isn't it another private group of purebloods, longing for world domination and whatnot?" While he didn't necessarily disagree with such sentiments, he'd seen enough fighting and whatnot during school. Zach liked keeping his head buried firmly in the sand when it came to such matters, thank you very much.

"It's a bit more serious than that. They fashion themselves the next batch of Death Eaters. From what I've heard, all they lack now is new Dark Lord to lead them." She paused. "I have heard rumors they've approached my son."

Rumors? "Not to be blunt, Ms. Greengrass," he started with every intention of being blunt anyway, "why are you here? Why not just ask your kid if he's angling for the job?"

She laughed, but there was no amusement in the sound. "Do you have children, Mr. Smith?"

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I'm not a father."

"Then you wouldn't understand. My son is a teenager. To him, the most embarrassing person at this moment in the world is his mother."

"Then what about his father?"

Astoria pursed her lips. "Draco and Scorpius are on somewhat acrimonious terms. My son might be the heir, but he is not the most beloved child in the family."

It was Zach's turn to raise a brow. "Your ex-husband has three sons by his new wife. Isn't the oldest of _those_ his heir?"

"It was a term of the divorce. Draco would not have to pay alimony or child support as long as Scorpius remained heir to the Malfoy estate. I don't give a whit how many sons my ex-husband fathers, nor on whom he fathers them. My son keeps his rightful inheritance."

_Touchy._ "Right. Great, so. What's the job? Find out if Scorpius is involved in this Brotherhood thing and report back?"

"Find out if he's involved, or if he's been approached. Ensure no matter what, he does _not_ join or even entertain the notion." Astoria's eyes were hard as she fixed him with a look. "I will not give Draco any excuse to disinherit Scorpius."

"Done." With a wave of his wand, a scroll of parchment flew from a cabinet. The words of the contract magically filled in the blanks, drawing out the terms of their agreement alongside Zach's usual retainer fee. "And the end date for our agreement?"

She thought for a moment. "He's home for the summer holiday. Given it is early June, I want this matter settled by the time the train departs for school on September first."

"That's less than three months," he reminded her. "You want a rush job, that'll cost you."

"How much?"

He threw out an outlandish sum. Astoria didn't even blink. "Agreed." Taking the quill from his outstretched hand, she glanced over the wording, then signed her name in the indicated spots. 

He grinned and rolled the scroll up. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you, sweetheart. I'll be in touch soon."

"Mr. Smith, I'm sure along the way, someone told you such terms of endearments were charming. They're not." She rose from her seat and gave him a curt nod in dismissal. "I look forward to your progress."

*~*~*~*~*

Research was dull work. Zach was sure some biddies -- like Granger and her ilk -- got a thrill from it, but it put him to sleep without at least three cups of coffee. In his line of work, though, research eventually paid off, and it paid _well_. If he finished this job, he'd have enough in his vault to do whatever he wanted. Maybe he'd go on holiday.

Until then, he was committed to Scorpius Malfoy. Lucky him.

For the third time in thirty minutes, Zach flipped open the file he'd compiled on the extended Malfoy family.

**SCORPIUS HYPERION MALFOY**  
• DATE OF BIRTH - April 14, 2006  
• HOGWARTS HOUSE - Slytherin

**FATHER:** Draco Malfoy - age 42  
 **MOTHER:** Astoria Greengrass - age 40

**DIVORCED:** January 25, 2011

**FATHER REMARRIED:** October 1, 2012

**STEP-MOTHER:** Miranda Montgomery - age 36  
 **HALF SIBLINGS:**  
• Orion   
• Pollux   
• Castor   
• Lyra 

He flicked idly through the photos attached to the information, paying little attention to the four younger Malfoys. Zach's mother had walked out on his family while Zach was in primary school, and he hadn't heard from her since. His father never talked about her, but Zach imagined she'd found a better husband -- his old man was a hardass. It was easier than he liked to sympathize with Scorpius Malfoy’s behavior.

Then again, he thought as he examined a picture of Astoria Greengrass, taken at a recent society function, he wasn't sure Malfoy had upgraded -- at least in the looks department. Miss Greengrass might have a few more years on the new Mrs. Malfoy, but she was still an attractive woman. There were several pictures of her in his file, all compiled from the gossip and society columns. Lots of parties, lots of short, sparkly dresses, and she had different men on her arm at each one. 

So. The kid had a father who'd made a replacement family, a mother who -- on the surface -- was less than attentive, and zealots looking to set him up as lord and master of the universe. It wasn't hard to see why that'd be attractive to a sixteen year old. 

As for Scorpius himself, his file wasn't exactly thrilling to read. A Slytherin like his parents, Chaser on the house Quidditch team, school prefect. His grades were alright; a few marks down from top of the class, but he was far from the bottom. His little group of friends was comprised of familiar names: Zabini, Nott, Montague, Flint. New generation, same snot-nosed elitist twats.

It'd been three weeks since Astoria Greengrass had contracted his services. Since then, his life had been all Malfoy, all the time -- and that was _not_ something he was best pleased about. For one, Scorpius Malfoy was a teenager. And secondly, he was a _boring_ teenager. He shopped in Diagon Alley. He went to Quidditch matches, spent a weekend in France with his mates. Once, he'd even seen him taking the younger of his half-siblings for ice cream. 

That alone should have discredited his Future Dark Lord standing. 

But every two or so days, he disappeared. Zach hadn't been able to pinpoint where he went -- and he was _damn_ good at tracking people. Yet a sixteen year-old shit of a kid kept slipping out from underneath him. It was never for very long -- an hour, at the most, and then he'd reappear as if nothing had happened. 

Whatever he was hiding, he took it more seriously than the Brothers of Cassiopeia. 

He'd followed Little Lord Fauntleroy to two meetings so far, held most covertly in the back room at Borgin and Burkes. For a future society of evil, they weren't the most inconspicuous lot. They might as well hang a sign in the front window: "Future Death Eaters, Unite!" Scorpius had stayed after the meetings, departing after speaking with an older gentleman Zach only knew by reputation: Barnabas Gallowglass. One of those "suspected, but never proven" acolytes of You Know Who. From what he could tell, Barnabas wasn't the loudest supporter, but he was certainly one of the more important ones. 

Zach shook his head. Focusing on the Brothers would get him nowhere. He'd bet his prize Firebolt XXX broom (only legal in several small Middle Eastern countries) that the key to breaking Scorpius Malfoy lay in his disappearing act. Something -- or someone -- was behind his odd behavior. And gods be damned, Zacharias Smith would find out.

*~*~*~*~*

As a general rule, Zach didn't enjoy being out and about in the morning sunshine before ten a.m. He was something of a night owl. He didn't like the sunshine, or leaving his bed before he was damned good and ready. He'd had an evening visitor that night, and while that would normally put him in a jolly mood for the day ahead, Heidi hadn't exactly been quiet when leaving his flat in the early hours of the morning. She'd clambered about like an elephant, departing around six, and he'd been unable to get back to sleep.

So here he was at his favorite newsstand. Or, whatever passed for his favorite newsstand. It was the most convenient to Diagon from Muggle London -- just inside the portal from _The Leaky Cauldron_ , and the proprietor usually threw in a pack of cigarettes with his magazines. 

"Your usual?"

His cup of coffee in his hand, Zach nodded and fished a few coins out of his pocket. He tossed them to the man inside the newsstand in exchange for the glossy publications. "Cheers." 

Nazir just smirked and lit up a cigarette. "You know, you are the only man I have who ignores the _Morning Prophet_ and buys the gossip rags. You are a strange man, Zacharias Smith."

"Prophet's full of tossers," he answered idly, flipping through _Witch Weekly_ to the society pages. "This is as good a research as any I can find." 

And there she was, on the first page of the Society Section. Astoria Greengrass, posing for the cameras at some function. The woman in the photo looked at him, but did not smile before she turned to a different camera. It ran on a loop. Every time the photo of Astoria looked at it, it was like she was looking straight through him.

Beneath her photo, the caption read, _"Astoria Greengrass poses on the red carpet before the Witches' Council annual charity ball. Ms. Greengrass, wearing a one of a kind Delacour gown, is a member of the Council and patroness of this year's charity, The Art of Elysium."_

He flipped to the next page. And there, in his aging glory, was Astoria's ex-husband. _"Summer holidays means time with family! Draco and Miranda Malfoy attend the Ballycastle versus Falmouth match with their four children, Orion, Castor, Pollux, and Lyra."_ Malfoy's hairline was receding, Zach noted with satisfaction as he patted his own head full of sandy blonde hair. (If it was going a bit gray around the temples, no one really noticed all that much). 

It was stretching the truth a bit thin to call the gossip rags 'research' in this particular case. It was unlikely he'd see a columnist waxing poetic about Scorpius Malfoy, and everything he'd read in today's magazine was nothing he didn't already know. The Malfoys lived a lifestyle Zach himself knew little about. They were refined, polished, and had enough money to bury their enemies under gold. 

Pursuing a woman like Astoria Greengrass was idiotic. What the hell was he on about? Of _course_ he wasn't pursuing her. Thinking about her naked, yes. Wanking off to her picture? Maybe. (It wasn't a fact he was proud of). It didn't matter -- he wasn't the marrying -- or dating -- type. Wham, bam, thank you, ma'am. That was his speed.

"May I get a copy of the _Financial Times_ and the _Morning Prophet_ , please?"

Zach jumped at the sweet sounding voice behind him, cursing when he banged his head on the side of the newsstand. Behind him, Nazir snickered at his less than smooth move, but the young woman was concerned. "Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to startle you."

"S'alright," he ground out. It was his own damn fault. He hadn't been paying attention to anything else. He'd not expected to see _her_. Not here, at least. 

The blonde peered at him. "Mr. Smith? Are you sure you're alright?" When he managed to nod, she smiled and held out her hand. "I don't know if you remember me. I'm Felicity MacDougal, Mr. Macmillan's assistant."

"I remember," he answered gruffly. He reached out and shook her hand briefly, dropping it as if her touch burned him. "Nice to see you."

"You as well." Her gaze dropped to the magazines in his hand, and she giggled. _Giggled_ at him. "Looking for the best facial mask?"

"What? Oh. Erm, it's for work." Zach hastily shoved the magazines in his bag, pointedly ignoring Nazir behind him. The man was having _far_ too much entertainment at his expense. 

Felicity smiled and handed Nazir a few coins, taking her papers and tucking them beneath her arm. "Well, I best get off to work, too. Nice seeing you again, Mr. Smith!"

He managed to grit out a garbled reply. Her bright smile was burning in his mind as she left the two men at the newsstand, humming happily and a jaunt in her step. He had to stop himself from following her, even though he knew her morning routine by heart. A cup of coffee, picked up from the cafe by her flat. She'd grab her papers from Nazir, then head to the Ministry for another day's thrilling work. Zach normally timed his own visits to the newsstand to happen after she'd already departed, but he'd lost track of time. 

"And this, this is why you have no woman," the newsman said in heavily accented English. "You do not have the moves to attract them."

"Oh, piss off, Nazir."

*~*~*~*~*

When he'd sent an owl to Astoria asking to meet her, he hadn't expected her to invite him into her home. He'd thought they might meet at a coffee house, or maybe at a bar -- he wouldn't have said no to a pint of ale, despite the morning hour -- or some place in public.

Of course, she likely didn't want to be seen with him. She had a reputation to maintain, or some rot like that. 

Whatever her reasoning, it was no skin off his back. As he lingered in the foyer of the Greengrass home, he had to repress the urge to reach out and knock gilded mirror crooked. The black and white marble floor shone from its most recent polishing, and the rest of the room was decorated in complimentary shades of black, white, and silver. The entire home -- including its location; a posh street in Belgravia -- screamed _money_.

And if that weren't enough, the disapproving house elf hovering in the corner sealed the deal. The Hogwarts house elves had at least been discreet. This one looked as if its main job was making sure he didn't pocket any Greengrass family heirlooms during his visit.

The _click clack click_ of heels on marble reached his ears, followed by a familiar voice stating, "Mr. Smith." Zach turned to face his current client, his ever-present smirk tugging at his lips. "Ms. Greengrass," he greeted with a slightly sardonic nod. His gaze flickered approvingly over the petite woman. Here, he was seeing her in her natural habitat, with the trappings of her status surrounding her. Her green dress clung to her curves, but not even a murderous pair of high heels could bring her close to his height. The top of her head barely reached his chin. 

"Please," she said, gesturing for him to follow her, "come with me. We may speak in my study. Bitsy, we'll take tea."

Astoria didn't wait for him to acknowledge her, but Zach followed. As they walked down the corridor, his gaze kept bouncing between the paintings on the wall (all whispering fiercely to one another about the strange in their midst) to her pert arse. She really was a fetching woman.

Pushing those thoughts to the side -- he could think with his cock when he was _off_ the clock -- he settled down beside her on the antique leather sofa. Astoria sat down in one of the facing guest chairs, eschewing the seat behind her polished ebony desk. Not a quill or paper was out of place there, which was a stark contrast to his own office.

For a moment, they sat in silence; her, waiting for him to say something, and him trying not to ogle the glimpse of cleavage showcased by the deep V of her dress. Finally, she spoke. 

"What can I do for you today, Mr. Smith?"

There were many, _many_ things she could do for him, starting with those lips she'd painted red... Zach shook himself out of that line of thought. "I've got a few questions for you about the job, about your son."

She raised a brow at him. "Yes?"

He settled back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other, resting his ankle on his opposite knee. "First, let's start by you telling me how you found out Scorpius had been approached by the Brothers. I'm just going to go out on a limb and assume he didn't tell you himself."

"Clearly, you don't have a teenage son," she answered dryly. 

"We've already covered that base," he reminded her. "Not a father."

"In this case, you would assume correctly. One of Scorpius schoolmates, Sebastian, has also been approached by the Brothers to join their cause. And Sebastian's mother, Pansy, is one of my oldest friends. She overheard the two talking about it when Scorpius was visiting for the weekend, and she reported to me what she'd heard."

Zach tugged a battered notebook and pencil nubbin out of his jacket pocket and scribbled the names down. "Sebastian... Montague, yeah?"

Astoria hummed. "Mhmm. He and Scorpius are the same year at school." 

So, Pansy Parkinson and Astoria Greengrass had been pregnant at the same time. He'd bet his one-bedroom flat both their husbands (or in Astoria's case, ex-husband) had developed heavy drinking problems during those nine months. 

A pair of house elves, tea towels neatly pressed and tied over their shoulders, entered, pushing a small cart of tea and tiny finger sandwiches. They disappeared nearly as quietly as they'd arrived, and Astoria leaned forward to pick up the teapot. "How do you take your tea, Mr. Smith?"

His lips curled. "Got any whiskey?"

Her answering look was flat. "It's eleven o'clock in the morning."

Zach sighed. "Fine. A touch of honey, please." He accepted the tea from her and took a sip. Setting the delicate cup on the small table in front of him, he continued with his questions. "Does Scorpius have any problems with drugs or alcohol?"

She blinked dark brown eyes at him in surprise. "What? Don't be ridiculous. Of course he doesn't." She shook her head and sipped from her own tea. "My son does not experiment with those sorts of things."

"Begging your pardon, Ms. Greengrass," he said, "but you've already admitted your son isn't exactly open with you about his life. He's sixteen. Kids experiment at that age. I remember some good times in the prefects' bathroom at that age..."

Astoria held up one hand. "That's quite enough, Mr. Smith. I do not need to know about any debauchery you might have engaged in whilst at school. But I do know my son, and I truly do not believe he would dabble in any sort of illicit substances like that."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetheart," he muttered to himself. Judging by the pinched look on her face, his muttering hadn't been _quite_ soft enough. 

"Mr. Smith," she said crisply, setting her tea down hard enough on its saucer he thought she might shattered the porcelain, "I know you must think me some idle-brained socialite, who left her child to be raised by his nanny elf for most of his formative years while she hopped from glittering party to party, enjoying the company of a different man every night. For the most part, you wouldn't be far from wrong. I have not been the most involved mother I could have been, and I will never forgive myself for that."

She paused and set the saucer back on the tea service, and Zach could see her hands were trembling. "But I truly love my son more than anything or anyone else, and I will _not_ see him throw his life away. I saw far too much of that go around the last time. I cannot bear to go through that again."

"I didn't mean to cause offense, Ms. Greengrass." She'd hit the nail square on the head; that _was_ what he'd thought of her. He wasn't so callous as to say it to her face, though. He quite liked the promise of a paycheck at the end of the job. 

He'd never been accused of an excess of professionalism, though. 

"Intent is irrelevant, Mr. Smith," her tart reply stated, and he couldn't find it in him to argue. 

Zach shrugged. "Well, I apologize anyway."

She studied him for a long moment, then nodded. "Your apology is accepted. What further questions might I answer for you?"

There were more questions he wanted to ask her, but they could wait. He'd already set her off enough for one morning, and none of them were of the make-or-break type. "Just one more, then I'll get out of your hair. I've been tailing your son for several weeks now, and I've noticed a pattern. Every two days or so, he vanishes." 

"He's sixteen." Astoria wore a look of slight disbelief. Her tone held a hint of mockery, and she queried, "How does a sixteen year old just _vanish?_ "

He shrugged. "Beats me. He'll disappear for an hour, maybe two. Then he's back like nothing happened. It's a long shot, I know, but do you have _anyDamn it_.

*~*~*~*~*

For a sixteen year-old Dark Lord in training, Scorpius Malfoy wasn't half bad at subterfuge. He was evasive, secretive, and harder to track than half the adults Zach had tailed over the course of his career. The biggest puzzle was just _what_ he was hiding.

It should have been his involvement with the Brothers. That was the logical thing to hide, right? Yet Zach had tailed him strolling through Knockturn Alley several times over the past two months for late night meetings at Borgin and Burkes. He was less than inconspicuous, even with his hood pulled up to mask his platinum blonde hair. 

No, the Brothers of Cassiopeia was definitely not Scorpius Malfoy's secret. 

What had once been a simple job -- take the money, do the job, get more money -- was morphing into something more for Zacharias Smith. For one thing, he would _not_ be outsmarted by some smarmy, privileged teenager. He didn't give a damn if Scorpius Malfoy tattooed the Dark Mark on his face and decided to prance down Diagon Alley in nothing but his underpants; come hell or high water, Zach was going to figure out what his secret was. 

And then, he would finish the job. Maybe he'd be able to take his mind off Astoria Greengrass once it was over.

It was maddening. He'd never wanted for the company of women, regardless of whether he paid for that pleasure or not. He'd been told he was "ruggedly handsome," in a "bad, bad man" sort of way. His sandy blonde hair was starting to turn gray around his temples, but his face was untouched -- save for a rogue curse scar cutting through his left eyebrow. He kept himself physically fit (or at least fit enough so his drinking habits didn't lead to a paunch belly), enough so that he could have a different woman a night if he wanted.

So why could he not stop thinking about Astoria?

He was an idiot. That was what anyone would say. To any sane, rational person, she was the last woman in the world he should want. To start, she was his employer -- a fact she'd made perfectly clear several times during their meetings. She had a whole baggage trolley worth of issues, terrible taste in husbands, and more gold than she could spend in five lifetimes. Purity of blood or not, the likes of Ms. Greengrass wouldn't be caught dead sullying herself with the likes of him.

That didn't stop him from thinking about her naked, though. _Fuck._

He needed a woman. Something to get her off his mind. Maybe he'd give Heidi a call tonight, if she was free after her shift again. A quick tumble between the sheets ought to help clear his mind, or at least relieve some of the pressure building in his bollocks.

Pushing all thoughts of Astoria Greengrass and her slender body from his mind, Zach focused on the task at hand. He'd followed Little Lord Fauntleroy from London to a small town in Surrey. Warlingham had a sparse wizarding population and no discernible reason for Scorpius Malfoy to take the Floo there. Yet here he was, strolling down the High Street as if he didn't have a care in the world.

When he ducked into the small post office, Zach's curiosity was officially piqued. What sort of pureblood used the Muggle post? 

Waving a hand in front of a passing woman's face, he was assured his Disillusionment Charm was firmly in place when she didn't react. Striding across the street, he peered in the window. The little Malfoy had pulled a small key from his pocket and unlocked one of the for-rent postage boxes. Zach watched as he pulled a small postcard from inside and flipped it over to read the writing. 

Scorpius smiled to himself, then stuffed the postcard in a rubbish bin. He glanced around hurriedly, as if to check for others watching, then he pushed out of the post office and set off down the street.

Zach didn't waste any time. Slipping inside before the door could close. The small front room was empty save for an elderly lady purchasing stamps and the postmaster helping her, neither of them paying the slightest bit of attention to the neglected bin in the corner. 

Kneeling down next to it, he rifled his hand through discarded scraps of paper and envelopes. Merlin, but he didn't understand teenagers. Any nitwit with half a brain knew the Ministry couldn't track magic by underage users if done in a high concentration of other wizards -- such as his bloody _home_. If there was something he was going through such great lengths to hide, then it would make much more sense to burn the bloody missive.

Or Hell, toss it in the fire. He took back his previous thoughts about Malfoy's aptitude at subterfuge. On this score, he failed miserably.

His fingers closed around a postcard at the bottom of the bin, and his lips curled in triumph. _Gotcha, you wee bastard_. Straightening, he bit back a groan at the strain on his knees. Maybe he needed a massage after this was over, to ease his aching back. 

Merlin, he was getting old.

His gaze dropped to the postcard.

> _S,_
> 
> _Two p.m. on Tuesday, Brighton pier. I miss you._
> 
> _Love,_
> 
> _T_

_Son of a bitch._ So that was his dirty little secret.

Scorpius Malfoy was hiding a girlfriend -- or a boyfriend; Zach wasn't judging. Whoever he or she was, he was going through a lot of trouble to keep it all a secret.

*~*~*~*~*

He'd never liked the seaside. Too many children, too much noise, and Zach _hated_ sand. Loathed it with an intensity typically reserved for sadistic Hogwarts professors named Umbridge and the Montrose Magpies. Sand in his shoes, in his swimming trousers, and all in his bits for weeks afterwards. What sort of person would willingly subject themselves to this sort of torture, he had no idea. Just for this, he'd have to pick up some sweets before he went back to London. Candy floss, maybe, or taffy. Maybe an ice cream.

He'd arrived an hour ago and planted himself at a bench just inside the pier's entrance. He'd traded his robes and typical garb for a pair of short trousers, Manchester United t-shirt, and worn boat shoes. With his sunglasses on, he looked the picture of a typical Muggle tourist. He didn't like Muggles, but he'd learned early on in his career the benefits of posing as one. It made him wish he'd paid more attention in Muggle Studies during school -- joke of a course _that_ had been. 

_Nothing to see here, little Malfoy. Just go about your business._

A book sat open in his lap. He hadn't read it -- he'd grabbed it from a pile collecting dust in his flat. Zach hadn't opened a book since he'd left school, and he had no intentions of changing that. If someone was _really_ looking, they'd see his 'pleasure' book was really an old Lockhart book left over from his second year. _Travels with Trolls_ , he noted as he glanced down at the title. Had he even read that one when it was required? Maybe he'd begged the notes off Finch-Fletchley from that one. Or filched them from his bag. They'd covered that one before the bloke had been Petrified, right?. Or maybe Susan had helped him out. 

He could reminisce about Hogwarts later, if he wanted -- and he really didn't'. His eyes were alert, though, as he scanned the throngs of people. Brighton Pier was a _big_ place. The note hadn't been specific, but it stood to reason Scorpius Malfoy would have to walk by him. The nearest connection on the Floo Network was in a pub about five blocks away, and he wasn't licensed to Apparate yet. Taking a Portkey was out -- he'd checked with a connection in that particular office, and there weren't any Portkeys arriving or departing from Brighton that day.

Of course, there was the possibility Malfoy could make his own Portkey. _Nah_. The kid was smart, but he wasn't _that_ smart. No, he'd Floo in and walk the rest of the way.

Zach glanced down to check his watch. Two o'clock on the dot. 

And there, right on time, was Scorpius Malfoy.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his camera -- one of his more brilliant purchases, he had to admit. It _looked_ like a Muggle mobile phone, but it took high quality magical photos. Nothing like those gigantic cameras the photographers at the _Prophet_ fooled around with. This was small, portable, and perfect for jobs like this. He could print the pictures later, and it would just look like he was a normal Muggle poking at the screen.

"Scorpius!"

His head jerked up in time with Malfoy's as a small girl wiggled through the crowd. Zach watched as she ran across the worn wooden boards to the teenager and flung her arms around his neck. _Girlfriend_. He couldn't hear what they were saying to each other, but he could read their lips. _I missed you._ He pressed the button and took a rapid series of pictures.

Scorpius and mystery blonde girl hugging.

Scorpius and mystery blonde girl kissing.

Scorpius taking the mystery blonde girl's hand and lacing their fingers together. 

The pair walked toward Zach, and he hurriedly glanced down at his lap. He poked at the screen a few times, his eyes rolling up to track their movements as they walked passed him.

"Mummy won't notice I'm gone for an hour. Can you stay that long?"

"For you I can." Scorpius glanced behind him, as if expecting there to be someone tailing him. _Down here, little Malfoy. No, not back there, down here._ Satisfied he wasn't being tailed -- _idiot_ \-- Scorpius glanced down at the blonde. "I'm yours for an hour."

He led her further into the crowd, and soon they were out of earshot. Zach stood, rolled his shoulders, and pocketed his camera. He'd got what he needed -- now to figure out how to leverage that information to his advantage. 

After he picked up some taffy from the stand. _That_ was a perk from the seaside -- delicious saltwater taffy.

*~*~*~*~*

"Whatever you want, the answer is no."

Zach snickered as he stepped into the small Ministry office. "How do you know I want something, Macmillan? I haven't even said hello yet."

Ernie Macmillan, his old schoolmate and the closest thing Zach could count as a 'friend,' glanced up from his work with a wry expression on his face. "You _always_ want something when you show up, Smith."

Shrugging, he plopped down in the empty visitor's chair and propped his feet up on the desk. "True, but I make it worth your while." 

"Get your bloody feet off my desk, you tosser." Leaning back, Ernie took a sip of his afternoon tea and sighed. "Alright, what do you have this time?"

Zach's gaze flickered behind Ernie to the file cabinets and bookshelves. They were littered with pictures of little blonde girls and dark haired boys. Zach had to suppress a shudder. He couldn't imagine raising one child, let alone five. Sure, Macmillan's wife was fucking hot, but really, birth control potions had been invented for a _reason_.

"Tickets for you, the missus, and your army of sprogs to the Puddlemere/Falmouth match next weekend." It was a steep price to pay, but Zach was feeling generous. He was slowly making headway, but time was running out. With half his retainer fee paid upfront, he'd been able to swing a little higher for his usual bribe offering. 

Ernie gave a low whistle. "I'm not doing anything illegal, Smith."

"I'm not asking you to, Macmillan."

With a shrug, Ernie said, "Well, with that sort of offering up front, how was I to know? What do you need?"

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the photo he'd snapped two days ago. "This girl. I need a name and anything you might have on her. My usual sources got nothing."

One hand reached for the photo while the other pushed his glasses down onto his nose. Ernie peered at the picture quizzically for a moment before his eyes lit up with recognition. "That's Thea Llewellyn. She's a rising sixth year Hufflepuff. One of Holly's friends."

Finally, he had a name, for all the good that did him. "I don't know any Llewellyns around here."

Ernie passed the photo back to him. "You wouldn't, would you? She's a Muggleborn. Lives in Pembroke, I think. Lisa took Holly to visit her over the winter hols."

_There were are_. A Muggleborn. It made much more sense with that bit of clarification. That was why he'd been disappearing off to so many days these past months. Scorpius Malfoy was hiding a Muggleborn girlfriend from his parents -- and, presumably, from the Brothers of Cassiopeia. The question was, how did he leverage that? "I need you to ask Holly something about her. Ask her if Thea is seeing someone."

The look of revulsion on Ernie's face was automatic. "Smith, you bloody bastard, she is _fifteen fucking years old_. That's low, even for you, not to mention _illegal_."

"Merlin, Macmillan, get your knickers out of a wad!" Zach nearly gagged. "It has to do with a job I'm working. Trust me, I like my birds a bit closer to my own age, thank you very much."

Ernie muttered something about the birds Zach paid for, which he chose to ignore. 

"So, you're asking me to gather school gossip about my daughter's best friend _with_ my daughter?"

"Basically?" Zach shrugged. "Look, I don't want any of the randy details -- just if she's seeing someone or not. That's it, I swear."

A knock on the door interrupted them. "I'm sorry, Mr. Macmillan," a familiar voice said from behind him, and Zach felt his heart stop. "...I didn't realize you had a visitor."

Ernie smiled and waved the young woman in. "That's quite alright, Felicity. Zach and I were just talking, you may come in."

"I just need you to sign these papers." The sound of high heels clicking on the cheap linoleum came from behind him, then moved around to the side as the young woman stepped into view. Her sandy blonde hair was pulled back in a professional updo, her smile easy as she set the aforementioned papers in front of Ernie. "Then I'll be out of your hair."

"Not a problem." Reaching for his quill, Ernie gestured between Zach and his assistant as he set his name where she'd indicated. "Smith, you remember my assistant, Felicity MacDougal."

_You bloody bastard_. Ernie Macmillan knew damned good and well Zach knew who his assistant was. He was one of the few people who really did. He inclined his head in a nod and greeted her with a gruff, "Miss MacDougal."

She returned the nod with a bright smile. "Mr. Smith, it's a pleasure to see you again." Not for the first time did Zach note she'd inherited her mother's smile; sweet and easy, without a hint of guile. 

"Here you are." Finished with the signing, Ernie pushed the papers back toward the young woman. "Any other paperwork to torture me with?"

"Not this afternoon," she laughed, gathering the folders up in her arms. "Thank you, Mr. Macmillan." She nodded to Zach as she passed. "Mr. Smith."

"Thank you, Felicity," Ernie said as she exited the office. 

Zach felt his heart deflate a bit, and he was struck with the urge to reach across the desk and punch his poncy friend. Mercifully, she hadn't mentioned his choice of reading material in front of Ernie. "For that, you get to gossip with your daughter and tell me what she says." He rose from his chair and flicked the other man two fingers. "Have a nice day."

He was almost out the door when he heard Ernie's soft reply. "Are you ever going to tell her, Smith?"

He paused but didn't bother to turn around. Instead, he shook his head. "No. It's better this way."

"For her, or for you?"

Zach didn't bother to reply.

*~*~*~*~*

"That'll be twenty Galleons," the grizzled woman running the counter at the apothecary informed him.

Zach swore under his breath. "Bloody ripoff," he muttered. Twenty bloody Galleons was a _lot_ of gold.

"Ye want yer Polyjuice Potion?" she barked. "Pay up."

He held his left hand up in placation while the other fished through his bag for the required amount of coins. "Fine, fine, _harpy_ ," he added under his breath. The look on her face told him he hadn't be _quite_ quiet enough, but she told the gold from him without comment, shoving the beaker of potion toward him. 

"And have a nice day." His parting comment dripped with sarcasm as he grabbed the beaker and shoved it in his bag after making sure the seal was locked on tight. Last thing he needed was to spend half a month's office rent on a bloody potion, only to have it all leak out before he could use it. Not for the first time did Zach think that maybe -- _just_ maybe -- he might want to look into brewing his own Polyjuice Potion.

Of course, by the time he reckoned he'd need it, it was already too late for the month required to brew it. So yet again, he was forced into paying some halfwit potions master to brew it for him. 

As he pushed out into the dim sunshine the narrow streets of Knockturn Alley provided, Zach could clearly see the rest of the job laid out in front of him. He'd figured out Scorpius Malfoy's secret -- one pretty little blonde Hufflepuff named Thea -- and now had a plan of action. Polyjuice himself into Gallowglass, threaten Scorpius Malfoy's little piece, get him to quit the Brothers, collect the rest of his gold. Problem solved.

Hopefully it would run just as smoothly when executed as it sounded in his brain.

Honestly, Zach had no problems with the goals of the Brotherhood. He was as pro-pureblood as any wizard out there, but he'd learned from past experiences the wisdom of keeping his mouth shut, his head down, and letting the tide flow was it would. When he'd been Scorpius Malfoy's age, he'd not envisioned his life as that of a professional bounty hunter. He'd thought about professional Quidditch, or a nice, cushy job at Gringotts.

Yet here he was, forty-two and single. Living in a tiny garret flat in Hackney, renting an office above a strip club in Diagon Alley, and living contract to contract. Suffice to say, life hadn't turned out the way he'd planned.

The thought of his childhood brought to mind Felicity MacDougal. What kind of childhood had she had? Was working for the Department of Magical Education her dream position? Or had something happened to crush her original dream, so she'd settled for less than she wanted? She seemed a bright girl; pretty and kind -- her mother's doing, of that he was certain. Macmillan talked about her whenever he dropped by. Zach wasn't sure if that was a gift or torture for him. A combination of both, perhaps. 

Growing up was a bitch. He hoped she didn't wake up twenty years from now with the same regrets he had. Somehow, he didn't think she'd make his mistakes.

His mind was so caught up in thoughts of the young blonde woman that he wasn't watching where he was going. As he stepped out of Knockturn Alley and into Diagon proper, he barreled into a passing woman. 

The force of the collision jolted him from his daydream, and he automatically reached out, grabbing her elbow to stop her from falling to the cobblestones. "Oy, watch it..." he trailed off, and his tone softened when he realized who he'd bumped into. "Er, I mean, apologies, Ms. Greengrass." _Bloody small world_. Of all the witches in England, of _courses_ he bumped into the one who'd gotten him into this mess to begin with. The one he couldn't stop thinking about when he was in bed, despite distracting himself with a number of other willing women.

Astoria eyed his grip on her elbow. "Mr. Smith." She straightened herself, brown gaze flickering up to meet his. "It's quite alright. My thanks for your assistance."

She stared at him for a long moment. "Oh, right, sorry, dove." He released her arm and took a step back. "I suppose I should, I dunno, buy you coffee or something?"

"I'm meeting my son for lunch. He goes back to Hogwarts soon." Another reminder of the ticking clock, counting down the days until he _had_ to finish his job. Astoria's lips thinned at his pet name, but her reply was civil. "But thank you for the offer. Another time, perhaps."

He nodded. "Another time. I need to… er, I’m due in Hogsmeade anyway." She hadn’t even waited to say goodbye before walking away. Zach groaned quietly. His eyes couldn't help but watch her arse as she walked away. _Fuck_. The sooner he was done with this job, the better. A woman like that was no good for him.

"No good whatsoever," he muttered to himself. 

Too bad the rational part of his brain had decided to take a holiday. Shaking his head in disgust, Zach spun on his heel and headed back into the depths of Knockturn Alley. Looked like an afternoon at _The Shady Lady_ was in order. He could always call in his favor tomorrow.

*~*~*~*~*

It was just a normal night at _The Leaky Cauldron_. Patrons of various moral ambiguities mingled together, enjoying pints of ale or drams of whiskey, conversing on everything from the latest Ministry regulations on cauldron thickness to the upcoming championship match of the British and Irish Quidditch League. The serving wench, a new face as the regular one had come down with a wicked head cold, deftly maneuvered through patrons as she delivered refills and food to those waiting.

Zach watched from a dark corner. Barnabus Gallowglass was there with a companion -- an Italian wizard by the name of Pietro Cingolani. There wasn't much to know about the foreigner aside from the few things Zach had observed over the past two hours. He spoke little English, was vegetarian, and -- most surprisingly of all -- completely abstained from alcohol. While Gallowglass was into his second pint, Cingolani sipped at a cup of coffee.

From that, Zach drew the conclusion the Italian had a strong stomach. He'd tasted The Leaky's coffee once before. It was, charitably, caffeinated toxic sludge. 

He'd also learned Gallowglass was fluent in Italian. For two hours, both men had conversed in low tones, leaning in every so often as not to be overheard. It didn't bother Zach too much; he couldn't give a damn about their topic of conversation. Cingolani was of no importance to the job, so he didn't matter. It was only coincidence that Zach even knew who he was. 

Just then, a patron behind them jostled the barmaid as she passed between their tables. Zach could only watch as she went tumbling backwards into Gallowglass, the pints of ale crashing down onto their table as she grasped at the man's head and shoulders to keep from falling to the ground. 

"Merlin, you clumsy woman!" he thundered, sputtering as ale dripped down his head. "Watch what you're doing! You nearly ripped my hair out! And look at the state of my robes!"

"A thousand apologies, sir!" she stammered. Her cheeks were stained with red as she righted herself, her hands trembling. She jerked the towel out of her apron and began to pat his shoulders dry, but he waved her off. "I'm so, so sorry. Let me clean this up. I'll have it right in a flash!"

"Don't bother." He whipped out his wand and uttered a quick Cleaning Spell, returning his robes and the table to their previous dryness. "I'll speak with your manager about this."

"Of- of course, sir. My apologies, again. Your supper and drinks are on the house, of course." Zach could see the poor woman was embarrassed. "May I refill your drinks?"

"No." He barked the word, waving her away. "Leave us."

Zach watched her nod and scurry back behind the bar. Her other patrons were at least more sympathetic, and he could hear them murmuring to her that it wasn't her fault, and that accidents happened. The blonde managed a weak smile for them and refilled drinks. "Thank you," he heard her say to an elderly wizard sitting at the bar. "It was terribly clumsy of me. Your meat pie should be about ready. Let me pop into the kitchen to check."

His lips curled. He'd seen and heard enough.

He tossed a few sickles onto the table and rose, pulling the hood of his cloak up as he ducked into the side corridor and slipped out the door. The alley running parallel to pub, a line between the wizarding and Muggle worlds, stank of garbage and piss. It wasn't the most ideal place, but he'd suffered through worse. He was a patient man.

Two minutes later, the buxom woman from the pub slipped out the side door, glancing around until her eyes lit on Zach. Her lips broke out in a smile. "Very cloak and dagger of you, Zach."

Zach grinned at her and bent to press a kiss to her cheek. "You missed your calling, love. You'd have made a fortune on the stage."

Hannah Abbott-Longbottom, proprietress of _The Three Broomsticks_ and the star of the evening's performance, wrinkled her nose. "I'll have you know, you've broken my perfect streak. I've never spilled ale, good or bad, on a customer before."

"It's all for the greater good, Hannah. I promise you that." 

She rolled her eyes and reached into her apron pocket for a small vial nestled inside. "I'm going to pretend I don't know what you need this for," she commented as she handed it to him. Zach brought it up to examine it, and his lips curled in satisfaction at the sight of five long, black hairs she'd plucked from Gallowglass's head. "Please tell me this isn't illegal."

He looked at her with a twitch of his lips. "Why do you lot keep thinking that?"

"Because with you, Zacharias Smith, we never know." Going up on tiptoe, Hannah pressed a kiss to his stubbled cheek. "I need to get back inside before Tom misses me. Come out and see me at my pub sometime, yeah?"

Pocketing the vial, he winked at her. "I'm always happy to see you, love. Preferably without your clothes."

She snorted in amusement. "I think my husband might have something to say about that. And I meant come see me sometime when you _don't_ need something from me." She paused and quirked her head in question at him. "Next time, you might try bribing me the way you do Ernie. Who's to say I wouldn't enjoy a Quidditch match, or a day at the spa?"

Merlin. He'd have to whack Macmillan about the head for blabbing about the Puddlemere match tickets to Hannah. "Next time, a deluxe pedicure is all yours," he promised. 

"I'll believe that when I see it." With a wave, Hannah slipped back into the pub. Zach's fingers closed around the vial. Something so small, but so important to seeing this job through to the end.

*~*~*~*~*

For a brotherhood of evil miscreants, hellbent on doing a bit of ethnic cleansing, the Brothers of Cassieopeia had _alarmingly_ lax security. Not a single member had questioned him when he'd walked in, Gallowglass's black mask and robes over his Muggle street clothes. Of course, he was also wearing Gallowglass's _face_ , so that might have had something to do with it.

As for the real Gallowglass, he was safely knocked out and tucked away in a side alley courtesy of Hulk and Mountain, two of _The Shady Lady_ 's finest doormen. They'd assured Zach -- after gold had changed hands, of course -- that Gallowglass would remain in such a state until Zach returned his robes and mask and had safely disappeared. There was something of a code amongst those who made their living in Knockturn Alley. 

They might stab each other in the back, but most of them would at least give you a bit of advance warning. 

As he stayed close to the back of the gathering, giving discreet nods to those who greeted him first, he took note of the other men. There were twelve of them, and at least two looked to be gangly teenagers -- faces smooth behind the half-masks that covered their upper faces. One of them was Scorpius Malfoy. The other, from what Zach had learned from watching the little ponce, was Sebastian Montague. A rising seventh year just like the Malfoy boy. His mother was one of Astoria's closest confidantes.

That wasn't his problem, though. Not until another mother paid him an exorbitant amount of gold and _made_ it his problem. Until that time, he didn't give a damn what the Montague kid did.

The clock chimed nine p.m., and a hush fell over the room. 

Under the cover of a Disillusionment Charm, Zach had observed the rituals of the Brothers. He took his place -- well, Gallowglass's place -- between two other masked and robed men. Fortunately, he'd noted the man's position within the group was more advisory, and so there was little he would be expected to say during the course of the evening.

"We gather together tonight, Brothers of Cassiopeia, as a community of like-minded men. The changes the past twenty years have wrought are not pleasing to our eye, and so it is our purpose, our ideal, to bring about a new order. An order where those with the purest of blood, the noblest of lineages, take their rightful place at the pinnacle of society. Our cause is noble, our brotherhood ancient --"

Zach closed his eyes to keep from rolling them in disgust. _Ancient brotherhood, my arse._ He hadn't been the most studious pupil in Hogwarts history, but even he knew that five years hardly qualified as 'ancient.'

"And together we will rid the world of foul filth and those who are not worthy to practice magic."

_Amen_ , he thought sarcastically. At least they weren't holding hands. That was taking things a bit too far, in his less than humble opinion.

As far as meetings went, Zach had suffered through Alcoholics Anonymous meetings that had lasted longer and were more lively. What, exactly, this brotherhood did or was planning to do, they never said. The entire two hours was spent waxing poetic over what You Know Who had done right, and what the Brothers felt should be handled differently. Every forty-five minutes or so, he'd take a sip from his flask and choke a bit more Polyjuice Potion down his throat. Disgusting, vile shite -- but necessary if he didn't wish to be discovered. 

Or, more likely, killed and tossed in the Thames. 

So he nodded in agreement, shook his head once (which garnered a rush of hushed whispers, and the man who'd spoken hurriedly retracted his idea), and once even hummed to express strong feelings of concurrence. (What he was agreeing to, exactly, he wasn't sure. He'd tuned out the speakers with skills he'd honed as a first year under Professor Binns).

When the clock struck eleven, the ringleader -- Ignatius Mulciber, a distant cousin of the Mulcibers who'd served He Who Must Not Be Named -- looked directly at Zach. "Have you any closing remarks for our brothers, Brother Gallowglass?"

This was it. His entire cockamamie scheme boiled down to this moment. He schooled his expression, deepened the timbre of his voice, and replied, "Ere we depart, I wish to speak with Novitiate Malfoy." He paused a beat, then added ominously, " _alone_."

Mulciber nodded. "But of course. Novitiate Malfoy, Mr. Borgin will show you and Brother Gallowglass --"

"I know the way," Zach interrupted gruffly. 

Scorpius Malfoy, for his part, was white as a sheet -- well, at least the lower half of his face was paler than usual. He could only assume the hidden half was a matching shade of white. He nodded subserviently and fell into place behind Zach as the pair of men left the disbanding brothers and entered Borgin's personal office.

Acting the part of a headmaster, perhaps, or a boardroom executive, Zach settled into Borgin's chair. "Novitiate Malfoy," he began in his best imitation of Gallowglass's voice, "are you devoted to our Brotherhood? To our cause?"

"Of course, Brother Gallowglass." He could hear the tremor in young master Malfoy's voice. "I'm ready and willing to prove my devotion to our brothers."

Zach's lips curled in a satisfied, slightly mocking smile. "So eager to please. So loyal. You are just like your father."

Scorpius's gaze shot up, and his lip snarled distastefully. "I am _nothing_ like my father."

He'd hit a sore spot. Now it was time to open that spot up and drive a Quaffle through it. "Of course you are," he said condescendingly, "and your grandfather. So loyal to our late Lord, they were, but neither were the most exemplary of servants." He rose and slowly crossed around the desk to stand in front of Scorpius. "Do you wish to distinguish yourself from them? Rid the Malfoy name of its stain?"

The teenager nodded frantically. "Yes, Brother Gallowglass, of course. I'll do anything you want."

_Perfect_. "There is a young girl I seek for our brothers. A witch by the name of Thea Llewellyn, one of your classmates."

He could see Scorpius's eyes widen behind his mask, but the younger man shook his head. "I don't know any girls named Thea."

" _Do not lie to me_." He put a touch of menace into his voice, the words rolling from his lips in an almost purr-like sound. "I know you fancy her your little girlfriend." For good measure, he reached into his robe pocket and pulled out the photo he'd snapped of the two of them at the Brighton pier. Two teenagers, smiling and holding hands, occasionally pausing for a kiss. 

"You had me followed?" Malfoy retorted, simultaneously sounding frightened and angry. "Why would you --"

Zach held up his hand, and Scorpius quietened. "I will do anything to ensure the security of our brotherhood," he said sternly, "including following young novitiates who think with their cocks."

"What do you want with her?"

"Why do you care?" he replied with a nonchalant shrug. "She is a Mudblood. She is unworthy of your lineage. She is unworthy to practice magic. _She is no witch_. He could see each barb hit home. Scorpius was visibly flinching by the time he finished. The young man was trembling, but silent, and so Zach continued, "Unless, of course, you are not committed to ridding the world of her kind..."

"Anything else," he whispered, shaking his head, "anything but Thea. She is innocent."

"You have a choice, Novitiate Malfoy." Here was the game-winning shot. Zach lined up on target and released the Quaffle. "You have not yet reached your majority and taken your vows. If you are unwilling to give up this Mudblood, you are unworthy to wear your mask and call yourself a Brother." He held his hand out. "The choice is yours."

The air between the two men was tense as Scorpius stared at Zach. He would see the struggle as Malfoy debated what to do. Give up his future as a minion of evil, or deliver his girlfriend to the Brothers? While Zach was not certain they would kill young Thea, he knew they would not be kind in their treatment of her. Every second that passed, Zach's bluff grew more and more thin. He felt a small knot of anxiety form in his belly. _Fuck, kid c'mon..._

Finally, Scorpius reached up and jerked the mask from his face. A lock of blonde hair fell over his forehead, and he thrust the mask into Zach's outstretched hand. "I'm not a murderer," he said quietly. "Leave Thea alone."

Zach nodded slowly and pocketed the mask. "You are not worthy to call yourself a brother," he said slowly. "Show yourself out, and do not darken these doors again."

Scorpius all but ran out the door, nearly bowling out two of the men still loitering in the shop. He slowly followed, and when they looked to him in question, he held up the surrendered mask. "Scorpius Malfoy is no longer welcome in the Brotherhood of Cassiopeia."

The two men didn't even argue. They nodded at him in deference, then went back to their conversation. 

As he past them, Zach murmured his farewells -- and it wasn't a moment too soon, as he felt his ears start to shrink and reform themselves back to his own body. As soon as the door shut behind him, he picked up speed and started for The Shady Lady. 

He had clothes to return and a false memory charm to perform.

*~*~*~*~*

He wasn't sure why he'd gone to Astoria Greengrass's home instead of his own. It was half past midnight. His business with Ms. Greengrass could certainly wait until morning. Yet, when he'd finished up the particularly difficult false memory charm on Gallowglass, he hadn't felt like going home at all. He felt invincible; drugged, almost. Like he was king of the fucking world, and no one could stop him.

It was an adrenaline high, he knew from experience. The rush from successfully finishing another job. Eventually, he'd come crashing down and remember he'd just done his fucking _job_. But right now, the world was his oyster -- and he wanted to share his news with one Astoria Persephone Greengrass.

There was one teeny tiny flaw in his plan: she wasn't home. 

Her disapproving house elf had let him wait in the foyer, though the creature hadn't been able to say when his mistress would return. Only that she was "out" and would likely be very late, and was he not certain he wouldn't rather come back at a proper time? After sending a proper owl and requesting an audience?

_Fuck that_. He'd sat down in a chair that looked too poncy to hold his weight, but he couldn't sit still. His leg was jittery. He couldn't stop shifting his weight around. Every chime from the ornate clock on the wall was like a gong rather than the tinkling chime it was intended to be. One o'clock in the morning, and no sign of the lady of the house.

Or her son. Merlin, he really hadn't thought this through. 

The cynic in him was sure that if Scorpius Malfoy came home to a strange man in his mother's foyer, he wouldn't be _that_ surprised. Zach rebelled against that idea, though. If the little snot was coming home, he'd have been home by now. He wasn't legally of age yet. There was only so much trouble an underage wizard could get into after midnight.

The sudden 'crack!' of Apparition made him jump in his seat. 

"Mr. Smith? What on earth are you doing here?"

He stood and smirked at her. "Letting you know you hired a fucking genius, in case you weren't aware already." 

Astoria raised a brow at him and set her sparkly clutch down on the side table. "I was not aware. I would hardly call dropping by -- _unannounced_ , I might add -- in the middle of the night wasn't your smartest idea in the world."

Zach opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, his brain registered just what sort of sight was in front of him. Wherever Astoria Greengrass had spent her evening had been a formal affair. Her sapphire blue evening gown clung to her slight curves, and she was sporting a most daring slit that ended at the very top of her thigh. The neckline was plunging, giving him a better glimpse at the cleavage he'd only seen hints of before. 

There was a slight sheen to her dark eyes. Whatever party she'd been at, she'd been drinking -- not enough that she was drunk, but enough to bring a pretty pink flush to her cheeks. Her eyes were bright with it.

Blood rushed to his groin. _Fuck_. 

"The --" he cleared his throat and shook his head. "The job's done."

She blinked at him, pink lips parted slightly in surprise. "I beg your pardon? What do you mean, 'done?'"

He took a step closer, lips curling upward in satisfaction. "Just what it sounds like. Our contract is fulfilled to all terms." His voice softened. "You don't have to worry about your son anymore, Ms. Greengrass." At least not where the Brothers of Cassiopeia were concerned, she didn't.

Astoria's jaw dropped. Zach could see the emotion in her eyes, the way her chest rose and fell with each emotional breath. "Truly?" she whispered, a slight sheen in her eyes. 

Zach nodded. "I swear it." With the thought that his word _might_ not be good enough for her, he added, "Give him a week or so. Scorpius'll do something. You'll know for certain."

She was still for a moment, staring at him as if she were unsure of what he'd just said. Then she took a step toward him, then another, and suddenly she was throwing her arms around him and surging up to press her lips against him in a heated kiss.

It was instinct for his arms to wrap around her slim waist, holding her tight against him. His tongue traced the seam of her lips, dipping inside to taste her when her lips parted beneath his. He ran one hand to the small of her back and traced over the curve of that delicious arse he'd admired many times over the course of the summer. Astoria was warm and pliant in his arms. His body reacted to hers, and Zach felt the thrill of _want_ running through him as he maneuvered her to press her against the nearest wall.

Astoria gasped and mewled beneath his caress. Her petite breasts pressed against his chest, and she hummed in pleasure when his lips broke from hers to trail nibbling kisses down her neck. " _Oh._ "

He pulled his lips from hers and looked her in her eyes. Both their gazes were hazy; hers with a combination of drink and desire, his with the want that had been boiling beneath the surface since she'd walked into his office on that June morning. Zach's hands were not gentle as his fingertips dug into her hips. 

"Tell me no right now," he rasped, chest heaving as he looked down at her. He slid one hand up to cup her breast, palming it through the thin silk that separated her skin from his. Her nipple hardened under his touch, and he groaned. "I'm not a good man, Astoria. Tell me to stop, or I swear, I'm not stopping until you've screamed my name."

Her pupils widened, eyes darkening. Astoria's lips curled in a coy, inviting smile. She ran one hand up the back of his head, running her fingers through his hair. Her movements pulled a shudder from him when her nails drug over his sensitive scalp.

"Good men are so boring," she murmured. Her hips canted against his, and she leaned in to press her lips to her pulse point.

_Since you asked for it..._ Hauling her up against him, Zach swept her into his arms. He couldn't ask for a better ending to the evening -- a completed job, and Astoria Greengrass soon to be naked beneath him. 

There were some perks to his job.

*~*~*~*~*

**  
_One week later_   
**

It was a complete surprise to Zach when Astoria Greengrass walked into his office. Since passing the evening in her company after he'd successfully completed the job, he hadn't expected to see her again. The remaining balance of his fee had been transferred into his vault. For all intents and purposes, he was finished with Astoria Greengrass and Scorpius Malfoy. 

His mind flickered back to that night, memories of pale skin and wanting kisses in the dark running free. With a shake of his head, he gave her a nod. "Ms. Greengrass, this is a surprise." Politely speaking, _what are you doing here?_

She hummed in agreement and settled into the seat across his desk without invitation. Zach caught a flash of pale skin when she crossed her legs at the knee, and his gaze was drawn to a shapely calf. "I would imagine so," she replied, amusement in her tone as he slowly looked up to meet her dark brown eyes. "But I believe I've figured you out, Mr. Smith."

Zach blinked slowly. "I'm not entirely sure what you're on about..." 

Astoria's lips curled, one corner lifting up in a smirk. "A Muggleborn girlfriend. My son's weakness. Would that be your secret weapon?"

_Ah_. Leaning back in his chair, Zach shrugged and laced his fingers together behind his hair. "Maybe. Maybe not. I told you, I promised results, not step-by-step directions."

"Of course." She fell silent for a moment, then asked, "Why did you not tell me about her?"

"It wasn't my place." Rolling his shoulders, Zach sighed when he felt the bones pop in and out of place, alleviating a bit of stress between his shoulder blades. "Since you're here, I'm assuming he told you about her, anyway."

"Mmmm. Yes, Scorpius approached me two nights ago about a young friend of his from Wales. Thea, I believe. She and her Muggle parents will be coming in to London next week to catch the train to school, and he hoped they might stay with us instead of at a hotel." Her smile took on an impish touch, and in that moment, Zach could see her how she might have looked twenty years ago; a fresh faced girl straight from school, with the world at her feet. "I am _so_ looking forward to Draco's expression when they're introduced. It'll be something to cherish in my Pensieve."

Zach couldn't help but smile a bit at her amusement. "And you don't care he's dating a Muggleborn?" The Greengrass family had never been as actively outspoken as other purebloods, but there were apples on every old family tree. 

Astoria shrugged. "If she makes my son happy, then I don't give a damn about her blood status. Besides, they're sixteen. How many childhood couples make it after school?"

"I guess if I had a kid, that's sort of what I'd think, too." The lie was heavy on Zach's tongue. The years of knowing about Felicity weighed on him. Holding that secret in was tiring. Before his mind could stop his mouth, he added, "Remember when we first met? When you asked if I was a father?"

"Mhmm." She raised an elegant brow at him. "I do. You said you were not."

He shifted in his chair. "That was a lie. Sort of." Once the dam had been opened, the words came out easily. "When I was twenty, I got my girlfriend pregnant. Didn't know about it at the time. She broke up with me, I guess after she found out. Moved to America, and I didn't think anything about her. We'd been having problems for a while -- I wasn't the most faithful bloke she could have found."

When Astoria didn't say anything, he continued, "Anyway. She came back a little over ten years ago with a little girl. I ran into them in Diagon, and I just _knew_." He'd known from the first moment he'd laid eyes on the little pig tailed blonde that she was his daughter. Coupled with the look of abject horror on Morag's face, it was all the confirmation he'd needed. "Morag had married some Muggle businessman from Shanghai. Convinced him to move to London so her daughter could go to Hogwarts."

" _Zach_." The tender infliction she put into his name stopped his story. Zach slumped in his chair. He didn't necessarily feel _good_ about spilling his secret to a one-night stand -- admittedly, a very beautiful one-night stand who had plenty of secrets of her own -- but he did feel a bit lighter. Astoria's voice was soft, and she added, "Does she know?"

He shook his head. "I talked to Morag a few weeks later, agreed not to say anything. Her name's Felicity, after Morag's mum. Works in the Department of Magical Education now."

"Why did you agree not to say anything? She's your child, you have a right to be her father."

"Nah. I'm not a father. Fathers are those men who teach a kid to walk, to ride a broomstick. Who's there when you lose your first tooth, when you head off to school. I'm a functioning alcoholic who can barely make ends meet. She's got a good life and family." He shook his head. "I'm not messing that up for her."

Astoria lifted a shoulder in a slight shrug. "Perhaps." He watched as she rose from her seat and crossed around his desk. Leaning against the wooden surface, she reached out and cupped his face with her soft hands. "You're not a bad person, Zacharias Smith," she said softly. "You might not be a _good_ man, but you're not a bad one, either."

"I'm recording this conversation for posterity," he joked weakly. 

Her lips twitched. Leaning in, she pressed her lips to his in a slow, soft kiss. Zach's lips parted beneath hers, deepening the embrace until they both broke apart. 

Astoria's smile was wistful. "Given time, I could have loved a man like you." Her gaze flickered to his lips, then back up, and her smile turned wry. "But I've always had terrible taste in men."

He reached up and pulled her hands away from his face, bringing them to his lips for a soft kiss. He'd never expected to actually _like_ Astoria Greengrass. She was far from being mother of the year, and she was still rich, spoiled, and vain. But there was a warm heart beneath her exterior, and the memory of her body beneath his was one he would not soon forget. 

"Well," he murmured, "it's a pity neither of us is the marrying type, love."


End file.
